


Kiss It Better

by summerofspock



Series: Accumulation (The Life and Times of Crowley's Facial Hair) [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: 1600s, Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Bickering, Elizabethan, Established Relationship, Face-Sitting, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wet & Messy, but in a messy way, crowleys goatee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24151783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerofspock/pseuds/summerofspock
Summary: Aziraphale returns from Edinburgh a bit saddle-sore. Crowley lends a hand. Or well...you know.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Accumulation (The Life and Times of Crowley's Facial Hair) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1742881
Comments: 46
Kudos: 492





	Kiss It Better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pyracantha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyracantha/gifts), [elizabethelizabeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizabethelizabeth/gifts).



> am i sorry i made this series? only a little.  
> chronology? never heard of her. In this world the only thing that exists is Crowley's terrible facial hair and various ways to make it wet and/or messy. 
> 
> Same universe as Ask Nicely just a couple centuries before.
> 
> Dear Snel and Pyra, I love you.
> 
> Enjoy.

Aziraphale limped his way into his boarding rooms, legs stiff and buttocks sore. He really did hate riding horses.

He would love to do a quick healing miracle but Heaven always seemed to catch those out and question them. Something about  _ if you’re not at risk of discorporation, it’s a waste _ . And he’d already put in the requisition to switch out his genitals for the journey. Thank goodness that had been approved. He’d be quite cross if he had to contend with sore bollocks as well as a sore bum.

Though vaginas really were quite sensitive. Aziraphale wondered if Crowley…

He shook himself. His mind always drifted to Crowley when he started to think of his nethers. He supposed it made sense. Crowley was the only one that had explored the area (so to speak). Though Aziraphale had never had this particular set when they were together in the carnal sense.

He sighed as he trudged up his steps. It would take quite a long time to fill his tub but it might just be worth it to soothe his current aches. 

He pushed open the door to his bedroom, mentally fortifying himself through his exhaustion, and started upon seeing Crowley lounging in a chair by the hearth.

He smirked at what was surely a shocked and silly expression on Aziraphale’s face.

They’d only been participating in the Arrangement since the turn of the millennia and it hadn’t been that long after, while Crowley regaled Aziraphale with a disastrous tale of trying to pretend to be a nun without being unable to set foot in a church, that they’d gotten gloriously drunk and laid side-by-side by their campfire. It had seemed the most natural thing in the world at the time, rolling onto his side and pressing into Crowley. He’d tasted of wine and woodsmoke. And he’d been warm, so warm, while they traded sloppy first kisses. 

Crowley had acted skittish the next morning, like he thought Aziraphale would regret it.

Aziraphale hadn’t.

Messy kisses had become messy fumbling over clothes and then under clothes and it turned out that parts of Aziraphale’s body he had deemed useless were in fact extremely useful especially with Crowley.

It was practically tradition now. Exchange favors, and then meet up afterward to debrief. A debriefing that almost always turned into something else entirely.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale said, pressing a hand to his chest in surprise. Crowley preened, lounging even further in his chair as if he was utterly pleased to have gotten the jump on Aziraphale.

“Heard you were back in town,” Crowley said lazily, stroking his fingers under his chin and fiddling with his ridiculous goatee. The light from the hearth reflected off his lenses and he looked quite the picture, Mephistopheles, here to drag him to Hell.

“Really, I just arrived,” Aziraphale huffed, trying very hard to sound put upon even if he was rather thrilled to see Crowley. Perhaps the demon would draw a bath for him. Hell was much more lax about miracle use. Or, well, not miracles, but the demonic equivalent.

“I always know when you’re back in town,” Crowley said. He gave Aziraphale a grin that he could only quantify as  _ shit-eating _ . “How was Edinburgh?”

“Damp,” Aziraphale answered honestly as he removed his traveling gear. “And horses are abominable. I haven’t been this sore in ages.”

Crowley slithered out of his chair and came up behind him, hands sliding over his hips and around his front. “Your poor rump sore from the saddle?”

Aziraphale fought down a blush. “Quite. I was actually going to take a bath. Perhaps give myself a rub down.”

Aziraphale felt Crowley’s smile against the side of his throat as Crowley tucked his nose close to his ear. His goatee tickled Aziraphale’s pulse and made him shiver.

“Perhaps I could...lend a hand,” Crowley said quietly. The hand on Aziraphale’s hip skirted over his belly and between his legs and then froze. “What’s going on down here?” Crowley asked, a teasing wickedness heating his words.

Aziraphale’s breath caught in his throat. “I had to—I got rid of my...my  _ usual _ for the journey.”

Crowley’s lips caressed the soft line of his jaw. “Are you smooth then or do you have something new?”

The way Crowley said it made it sound like the lewdest thing in the universe. Aziraphale whimpered.

“Something new.”

Crowley hummed, a pleased rumble that echoed through Aziraphale’s chest. “Then I definitely have to lend a hand. Perhaps...kiss it better.”

Aziraphale’s knees were definitely weak but Crowley was pushing him towards the bed, kissing the nape of his neck and squeezing the flesh of his hips. Aziraphale’s hand flew to his hair, holding him close as he kissed over his throat. 

“You looked so pretty at the Globe you know,” Crowley said, turning him around so his hands could go to his buttons. “Brought myself off thinking about undressing you.”

Crowley was staring at his chest and the heated expression Aziraphale saw on his face made his heart quake. “I looked like I always look.”

Crowley shook his head, pushing off Aziraphale’s jacket. “Hadn’t seen you in hose yet. They made your legs look fantastic.”

Aziraphale thought about the sight of Crowley’s ankles in his own hose, so delicate and thin. Without consciously meaning to, Aziraphale began to tug at Crowley’s buttons. The demon laughed and before Aziraphale could bite out a suitably sarcastic retort, Crowley stooped to kiss him, effectively shutting him up.

Aziraphale clutched at the front of Crowley’s velvet doublet and tried to stay upright. It seemed Crowley didn’t want him to, pushing him back against the bed with one thigh between his knees. 

As soon as Aziraphale’s backside hit the bed, he hissed in pained surprise and Crowley pulled back, a playful pout on his face. “Can’t have you hurting, can we?”

Crowley snapped his fingers and Aziraphale’s clothes were gone. He began to protest but he saw them neatly folded on the chair Crowley had recently vacated. Crowley crawled into bed beside him and tugged on his hips. “On top of me, angel. Rest your weary bones.”

Aziraphale grunted in discomfort but rolled over to straddle Crowley. The demon’s eyes raked over his body and he bit his lower lip when his gaze came to rest on the new thatch of hair between his thighs.

Aziraphale stayed up on his knees, not wanting to jostle his bum against Crowley’s sharp hips. Taking advantage of his position, Crowley steadied him with one hand on his side and reached out the other to brush his thumb through the curls hiding Aziraphale’s sex. He gasped at the sudden attention to the sensitive spot. 

“That’s new,” Crowley said, cocking a brow. He dipped his thumb even lower and circled it over the bundle of nerves that Aziraphale hadn’t even had occasion to think about except when it was accidentally bumped by the saddle.

“Ohmygoodness,” Aziraphale said, eyes fluttering shut as he fell forward, weight coming to rest on one hand beside Crowley’s head.

“So wet, angel,” Crowley teased as he dragged his thumb down and pressed the tip just inside him. When Aziraphale opened his eyes, Crowley was giving him that horrid grin again, somehow emphasized by his ridiculous goatee. 

“Would you—” Aziraphale sucked in a breath when Crowley pushed a finger entirely inside him. 

“Would I what?” Crowley asked, goading him as he once more rubbed his thumb over the spot that made Aziraphale’s stomach turn to liquid.

“Take off your glasses,” Aziraphale gasped and Crowley froze.

Slowly, the hand withdrew, the heat of it hovering over Aziraphale before Crowley removed the hand he’d been using to hold Aziraphale’s side and reached up to draw off his glasses. 

His eyes were as lovely as they'd ever been. Honey and amber. This close to him, Aziraphale could easily trace the crooked bend in his hooked nose, see the spray of freckles across its bridge. 

"You call me pretty but—” 

Crowley groaned and rolled his eyes. "Don't say it."

Before Aziraphale could argue, Crowley’s hands were back on his hips. "Come up here. Let me make you feel good."

Aziraphale let Crowley lead him forward, an awkward shuffling until his sex was hovering over Crowley’s mouth. He braced one hand on the wall and looked down just as Crowley's eyes slid shut and he gave Aziraphale a long, searing lick.

Aziraphale’s other hand came to join the first as he tried to keep himself upright. Crowley pressed kisses all down his front before fluttering his tongue against his perineum. Aziraphale felt the hard press of his nose against his clit as Crowley dipped his tongue even further back. Even though Aziraphale was sore, the thick press of it made him shudder with steadily growing pleasure that burned away the sharp arche.

Then he was licking him again in liquid strokes that had Aziraphale pulsing wetly against his mouth. He could feel the mingled slick of his arousal and Crowley's saliva dripping down his thighs and couldn't bring himself to care because Crowley was making him feel so good and— 

Then Crowley’s tongue pressed inside of him and Aziraphale saw stars, Crowley’s hands coming up to brace his lower back as he fucked him with his mouth.

“Oh, darling,” Aziraphale gasped. Sweat beaded on his brow and slid down his cheek. “That’s—I’m going to—”

The stars popping in his vision exploded into a dozen points of flashing light, pleasure cascading through him as he dug his fingers into the wall.

Crowley hummed happily between his legs, lapping at his throbbing sex and making him twitch. When he could finally breathe again, Aziraphale withdrew on shaking knees.

The demon rose up on his elbows and grinned at him, red goatee slicked to his chin. His mouth was shiny and his jaw was wet and he looked pleased as punch. A far-too familiar fluttering burst across Aziraphale’s chest that he knew better than to name. Instead, he pushed Crowley back against the pillows and kissed him, earning a surprised grunt for his efforts.

Crowley curled one possessive arm around his back as the kisses slowed to something more sedate, light sips of pleasure from each others’ mouths.

Crowley bumped his nose against Aziraphale’s when they finally parted. “Let me draw you a bath.”

His slowly drying goatee tickled Aziraphale’s chin as he kissed him softly. “Only if you join me, my dear.”

"I could go for a soak," Crowley said, tone full of mock-consideration. "I am a bit messy."

Aziraphale chuffed a laugh and let Crowley take care of him for a little bit longer.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy crowleys facial hair being ruined as much as I do you should check out [elizabethelizabeth's fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24157090) with deliciously messy content


End file.
